


In Deeper

by ZVArmy



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19409158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZVArmy/pseuds/ZVArmy
Summary: The Helmsley family are lying low after the mass shooting that wiped out Roman Reigns' organisation. That makes it a less than ideal time for the daughter of former Helmsley man to show up, needing a place to live while she tries to stay on the right side of the law. *Sequel to In Deep*





	1. Chapter 1

A police car crawled quietly up the driveway of the imposing mansion that belonged to Hunter and Stephanie Helmsley. There were enough lights on inside to penetrate the growing evening gloom and illuminate the parking area in front of the entrance. The police car stopped close to the front door, the driver not bothering to park alongside one of the three cars that were lined up nearby.

The driver's door opened, and Sheriff Sonya Deville emerged from the vehicle. Her expression conveyed that she wasn't in the best of moods. Slamming her door shut, Deville opened the rear door on the same side of the car and stiffly gave an instruction to the person inside. "Out!"

"Don't talk to me like I'm a fucking dog," a strikingly attractive young woman said in a fiery manner as she climbed out of the car, giving the sheriff a look of contempt. The woman had blonde hair with pink dye at the ends, and was dressed in a very revealing top, a pair of extremely short shorts and knee high leather boots.

"You want to be thankful I'm doing this. Now move," Deville replied impatiently, giving the woman a shove in the direction of the Helmsley mansion's front door.

The woman walked sullenly up to the front door, a scowl on her face the whole time. Deville pressed the doorbell.

They waited in an unpleasant silence for thirty seconds or so before the door was opened by none other than Stephanie Helmsley herself. She was impeccably dressed and made up as ever, and she soon effected the glare that anyone who wasn't in the Helmsley family's favour was used to seeing. "What are you doing here?" she demanded of Deville. "You've been told before you shouldn't come to the house."

"Usually, I wouldn't," Deville assured her. "But I need to speak to Hunter."

"Oh, do you now?" Stephanie said indignantly before her attention turned to the other, shorter woman. "Who is this?"

"She's the reason I need to speak to Hunter," Deville said evenly.

"Who is it, Steph?" Hunter Helmsley's voice said, coming from further back in the entrance hall. His footsteps could be heard on the marble floor as he made his way over to the door.

"Deville," Stephanie said with annoyance. Turning and walking away, she left the door open without inviting the visitors in.

Moments later, Hunter appeared at the door, looking less than impressed himself about Deville showing up at his home. "Sonya, I'm going to assume there's a good reason for this?" Like Stephanie before him, he looked at the other woman and asked exactly the same question. "Who is this?"

"Can we come in, or are we going to stand and talk out here?" Deville asked.

Hunter opened the door wider and showed them in. "Okay, what's this about?" he asked as he closed the door behind them. The young woman with the pink in her hair looked around the entrance hallway. If she was impressed by what she saw, she didn't show it.

Sonya gestured to the woman. "This is Robert Bliss's daughter, Alexa. In the past month I have arrested her three times, including this afternoon for shoplifting. I brought her here instead of locking her up as I know Robert was one of your men."

"Alexa," Hunter said faintly, looking at the daughter of one of his most loyal men. It must have been ten years since he had last seen her, after Robert had been killed on a Helmsley job and her mother had decided to take their daughter and leave Stamford City.

"You look weird bald," Alexa told him, remembering him with long blonde hair.

"And my beard is going grey," Hunter added good-naturedly. "A lot changes in ten years."

"Hunter," Sonya said, getting the conversation back on track. "Either you keep her off the streets, or I will." Her message was perfectly clear: One more offense and Alexa Bliss was going to be spending some time in jail.

Hunter nodded, an appreciative expression on his face. "I'll do that. Thanks, Sonya."

Deville nodded, assuming that she would be looked after the next time a brown envelope came her way. She wasn't exactly on the Helmsley pay roll as such, but she would bend rules from time to time in order to keep heat off Helmsley, and maintain the peace in Stamford. In return, Helmsley lined her pockets on a regular basis.

"I'll leave you to it," Deville said, heading for the door.

Looking back at Alexa, Hunter still couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. This was what the young girl he had known had grown up to look like. Beautiful, undoubtedly, but she also had the look of a hooker about her. Apparently she was no stranger to the wrong side of the law, as Deville had just stated.

"So, I'm under house arrest here now," Alexa said with a sigh once Deville had closed the door behind her.

"Better than in one of Deville's cells," Hunter said brightly, wanting to cheer her up. "How's your mom?"

"Dead. OD, four years ago," Alexa said matter of fact.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Hunter said quietly.

Alexa shrugged, indicating that it was a matter of indifference to her. "She wasn't much of a mom anyway. She was never clean after dad died. She was a fucking train wreck to be honest with you. I'm surprised she lasted as long as she did."

"And what have you done with yourself since then?" he asked. "I mean, how have you supported yourself?"

Alexa grunted a laugh. "Look at me. Ain't it fucking obvious?"

"Christ," Hunter muttered. Yes, it was perfectly obvious. "Well, you're not going to have to do that anymore. Your dad was one of my best and most loyal men. The Helmsley family take care of their own. I told your mom that before she left, but she didn't want to hear it."

"Unsurprising. It was your fault dad died," Alexa pointed out in a cutting manner.

"Actually, no it wasn't. Your dad screwed up, and paid the highest price for it, despite my attempt to save him. But that doesn't change the fact that I would have supported you and your mom. I still will support you. You have a roof over your head here, and I'll make sure you don't have to do… that… for money again," he said, avoiding directly referring to her being a whore.

"Everything okay, Hunter?" a woman's voice asked from across the hallway.

Alexa turned and saw a woman with bleached blonde hair standing in a doorway. She had one arm in a sling.

"Trish, this is Alexa. She's the daughter of one of my men who is no longer with us. She's going to be staying with us, so can you have a room prepared quickly?"

"Yes, of course," Trish said, heading across the hall and up the stairs.

"What's her deal?" Alexa asked Hunter, obviously referring to her bad arm.

"She was shot a month ago. We had an intruder break in here. The bullet hit her chest, damaging some nerves and stuff. She's rehabbing to get full movement back in her shoulder. Hopefully, in time, she'll be back to one hundred per-cent."

Alexa didn't look particularly interested in Trish's story, and chose not to comment on it.

"Come through," Hunter said, ushering her in the direction of the living room. "I'm sure Steph will be happy to see you once she knows who you are, Ronda too."

"Ronda still lives here?" Alexa asked, showing some enthusiasm for the first time as she thought about her childhood friend.

"She does. Somethings I think she wishes she didn't, but she does," Hunter said with a chuckle. His attempts at humour didn't seem have any effect on Alexa, who didn't respond to them at all.

Hunter walked into the living room with Alexa by his side. In the room, Stephanie and Ronda were relaxing on couches, watching a news channel on a gigantic television.

"What was that all about? Who is this?" Stephanie asked, getting back up when her husband and his new guest walked in. It was clear that she wasn't happy in the least with the sheriff showing up with a random hooker in tow.

"Holy fuck! Alexa!" Ronda exclaimed, recognising her immediately and getting up to great her.

"Hello, Ronda. Mrs Helmsley," Alexa said. "Apparently I'm living here now."

"Wait, what?" Stephanie asked, shaking her head slightly in confusion as Ronda walked over and hugged Alexa. "Alexa, as in Robert's daughter?"

"That's right," Hunter said. "Deville has been seeing rather a lot of her lately. Her words were, 'Either you get her off the streets or I will.' So, yeah, she'll be staying here for a while."

Stephanie nodded slowly. She of course knew the history that was in play, and also that Helmsley looked after their people. "Very well. But Alexa, you need to know that this is a delicate time for Helmsley. There was an incident that happened recently, and it has meant that as an organisation we're having to keep our heads below the parapet, understand?" she said sternly to their new guest.

"I'll be as quiet as a church mouse," Alexa said with some irony in her voice.

"Trish is fixing a room for her now," Hunter said.

Ronda put an arm around Alexa's shoulders and ushered her out of the room. "Let's go and help her. I'm thinking we've got a lot of catching up to do."

Once Alexa was gone, Stephanie approached her husband. "She's here alone. What about…"

She had been about to enquire about Alexa's mother, but Hunter cut her off with a shake of his head that told her all she needed to know.

"Shit," Stephanie said quietly.

"She said her mom died four years ago. She must be what, twenty by now? So she's been on her own since she was sixteen. She's been working street corners to get by. Steph, we can't let her go back to that life, we owe Robert that much."

"I agree," Stephanie said. "We should take her in."

"I'll get KO, Joe, Randy and Becky together and tell them what the deal is," Hunter said, referring to his inner circle of henchmen and woman. "I'm not stupid enough to believe Alexa isn't going to be a pain in the ass sooner or later. You can tell she's got a hell of an attitude about her, so I'll make sure everyone knows what's going on. I'll tell them that if at all possible, they're to either keep Alexa here, or at the very least out of trouble."

Stephanie nodded her agreement with that idea. "Yes, because the last thing we need right now is trouble. Even though Deville is doing her best to stall the investigation into our resolution of the Reigns… problem, there are more eyes and ears on us right now than I'm comfortable with."

"Right," Hunter nodded. "I'm hearing the same thing from Vega. They're lying low too. She said their gun running isn't even operating at half of what it could be right now."

There was no fondness towards Zelina Vega and The Vega Cartel from Stephanie, but there was respect. "Shrewd, clever woman that one. She wouldn't have gotten into bed with us on that deal if she didn't expect to get away with it."

"I know," Hunter said. "But until the heat dies down a bit, she's playing things as safely as we are."

* * *

Sheriff Deville walked back into the police station after her trip to the Helmsley mansion feeling pleased with herself. She had dealt with a potential problem in a simple and efficient way. Now she could spend the rest of her shift catching up with the daunting amount of paperwork that was waiting for her in her in tray.

Not looking forward to the task, she went and fetched herself a coffee from the machine before heading to her office. Once inside, she closed the door and settling down at her desk. She removed the first sheet of paper from the stack in her tray and took a pen out of her drawer.

At this time of the evening, the station was pretty quiet. It was too early for the night's intake of drunks to be brought in, and the day's other processing had already been done earlier. For that reason it was the best time of day for administrative work.

Only a few minutes in, with a total of two sheets of paper in her out tray, Sonya heard some kind of commotion coming from the direction of the front desk. There was some banging about, and a couple of raised voices.

Sighing in annoyance, Deville put her pen down and got up out of her chair. At that moment her office door opened and a tall blonde woman in a black suit and white blouse walked in. Sonya pegged her as FBI before the ID appeared in her hand. "Agent Flair, FBI," the woman said, talking in the superior manner that Deville was used to hearing from her type. "We're here about the mass shooting."

Deville had figured that out before being told, too. So much for stalling the investigation, she thought behind her impassive face. "Sheriff Sonya Deville. I'm in charge of the investigation."

A hint of a smirk appeared on Agent Flair's face. "Not anymore," she said with finality.


	2. Chapter 2

Sheriff Deville watched on with barely disguised anger and disgust while several men in FBI jackets under the orders of Agent Flair carried boxes of equipment and other assorted crap into one of her police station's offices. The FBI were taking over her investigation, and her station. Deville was livid, but powerless to do anything about it.

Hearing Flair's voice, Deville turned in the direction of the front desk. Flair was approaching her, having re-entered the station. There was a tall man beside her. His head was shaved bald, and he was dressed like a TGI Fridays waiter. His appearance might have been a cause for amusement if Deville hadn't been so pissed off. Taking in the expression on his face, she decided he looked like a prick, having that in common with most FBI agents.

"Sheriff Deville, this is Agent Corbin," Flair said. "He is my second in command on this investigation, so you will render him every courtesy."

You talk in a weird way, Deville thought, only acknowledging what she had been told with a small nod. She had no interest in making small talk with either Flair or Corbin.

Apparently the feeling was mutual, for Corbin walked into the office to supervise the unloading process.

"Tell me this, Deville," Flair said in the manner Sonya was getting accustomed to; superior, but also sounding like she was kind of enjoying herself. "What do you get when you combine a wanna-be gangster family, a bunch of wet back gun runners and a police department rife with, let's say, incompetence?"

"I wouldn't know," Deville said sullenly.

Flair clapped Deville on the shoulder. It was a friendly gesture, but there was no friendliness behind it. "Of course you wouldn't. What you get is an unsolved mass shooting. Worry not, though, because it won't be unsolved for long. What I already know is there are two organisations in this city with the strength and the motive to slaughter Roman Reign's entire crew, apart, apparently, from the man himself. Although I believe Reigns is also dead, as I'm sure do you. The organisations in question are run by Hunter Helmsley, and Zelina Vega. Whether it was one of them, or as I suspect, both, I'm going to put away everyone who was involved. Who knows, maybe we'll find Reigns' body while we're at it?"

Don't bet on it, Sonya thought.

"We'll start by reviewing your files on the case," Flair went on. "Let's see if we can figure out why you've had a month to bring those responsible to justice, yet you appear to have achieved precisely nothing of any value."

"The details of the investigation are all in the files," Deville said, not rising to the bait of Flair's thinly veiling insinuation of either incompetence or collusion.

"It should make interesting reading," Flair said as she walked into what was now her team's office.

Heading back to her own office, Deville knew that she had to get a warning out to the Helmsley and Vega clans, not because she was in their pockets, but because if one of them went down, she was sure that she would go with them. They would make sure of it, in retaliation for her failure to ensure their freedom. The whole situation was a hot mess now that the Feds had shown up. Threading her way through it and keeping her ass clean wasn't going to be an easy thing to pull off.

* * *

On her way home from her shift, Deville was still contemplating how to get the word out to Helmsley and Vega that the FBI were in town. However she went about it, she would have to be careful. While she had seen no sign of anyone following her as yet, it would not have surprised her if Agent Flair had put surveillance on her. It was pretty obvious that she was being viewed with suspicion over the lack of progress made with the investigation into the mass shooting.

A red light stopped Deville at an intersection. On the diagonally opposite corner there was a 7-Eleven. She happened to look in that direction while she was waiting for the light to change. One of the cars parked outside it was familiar to her. It belonged to one of the mechanics who worked at Almas Autos, the Vega Cartel's front business.

The light turned green. Making a split second decision, Deville drove across the intersection and parked up in the first available space. Wanting to make sure she didn't miss Vega's man, she hurried across the street and walked into the 7-Eleven.

The man Deville was looking for was standing in front of one of the freezers, seemingly trying to decide which crappy ready meal for one he was going to buy. Deville made her way over in that direction. Before she got near to the guy, he glanced in her direction and saw her coming. She was still wearing her uniform, which likely explained why he stiffened up, even though he was trying to play it cool. He was wondering if she was coming for him in some official capacity.

Stopping next to him, Deville made no eye contact as she opened the freezer and took out a ready meal for herself. "We've got friends in from out of town. Tell Vega, and tell her to tell Helmsley."

"Friends from… Oh," the guy said, catching on to what she meant halfway through his sentence. By the time he got that far, Deville had already walked away, leaving it in his hands.

* * *

Zelina Vega wasn't having a good night, as evidenced by the glare on her face. Standing in her kitchen, she held a small plastic bag up to the light to better study the contents, which looked like green meth. Green meth was produced by the Helmsley organisation, everyone knew that. The reason Vega was angered by what she was holding was that it had been bought by one of her men in Vega territory, and this was the third time.

"Sure looks like Helmsley meth to me," Vega growled. There was a longstanding agreement in place between the two clans that no Helmsley product was to be sold on Vega turf, and Vega didn't sell guns to anyone in Stamford City apart from Helmsley. It now looked to her like Hunter was starting to get out of his lane.

"Yes, boss, that's why I bought some to bring to you," said the man standing in front of her.

Ordinarily, her people would only call at her house in the most urgent or extraordinary of circumstances. The man had deemed this to be a good enough reason, and Vega had to agree. Her anger was directed at Helmsley, not the messenger.

"Set up a meeting," Vega ordered him. "Mr Helmsley has some explaining to do."

"You got it," the man said, turning and leaving as quickly as he could without looking like he was hurrying. He knew full well that when the boss got on the warpath, somewhere else was the best place to be.

Still with the furious expression on her face, Vega pocketed the small bag of meth. She didn't even get chance to leave the kitchen before Andrade appeared at the doorway. There was another of her men lingering in the background. Twice in one night, she thought, feeling her cheek twitch in anger.

"More bad news," Andrade reported, speaking in Spanish. He stood aside for the man behind him to enter the kitchen.

"What is it?" Vega demanded, trying her best to keep her cool.

"Sheriff Deville walked up to me in a 7-Eleven when I was on my way home from the shop. She said she has friends in from out of town. She wanted me to tell you, and tell you to tell Hunter Helmsley."

The news actually snapped Vega out of her anger. It was too serious to react to by losing her composure. Friends from out of town had to mean FBI, and that was seriously bad news for both her and Helmsley after they had worked together to take out Roman Reigns and his people. The Feds would leave no stone unturned to get to the bottom of who had carried out the massacre, which happened to have been her and a bunch of her men.

"Shit," she said quietly. "Thank you, you can go. I'm going to be meeting Helmsley tomorrow anyway, so I'll take care of it."

The man left as quickly as the one before him. Andrade was standing just inside the doorway, having overheard the exchange. "FBI. What are we going to do?" he asked with real concern.

"We're going to go over the shop from top to bottom tomorrow and make sure there's nothing for those assholes to find no matter how hard they search, because you can bet your ass they will come and search it."

"And the guns?" Andrade asked. They had only recently taken deliver of a shipment. It was currently in storage, waiting to be repackaged into smaller shipments and distributed out to customers.

"Have them taken out into the country and buried somewhere no one else will look. And make sure we can find them again," she added, just in case that needed to be made clear.

Andrade nodded and left the room to start issuing his wife's orders.

Left alone, Vega formed a fist with her right hand and strongly considered slamming it into the top of the kitchen island. "Fucking Feds," she snarled. "Helmsley, you'd better be ready to cover your ass. And it won't just be them you're worried about if you're selling meth on my turf."


	3. Chapter 3

A silver Lexus parked up outside of the Helmsley mansion. The driver killed the engine and got out, taking a moment to look at the other vehicles that were parked there. Hunter and Ronda were home, but Stephanie was not. She would be at work at the food processing plant. As the manager of the front company, Mrs Helmsley didn't get involved with much of the empire's other business.

Becky Lynch locked the Lexus and started walking towards the mansion's front door. Saving Ronda Helmsley's life, killing Roman Reigns, and thereby proving her loyalty had done a lot for Becky. She was now Ronda's right hand, and effectively her security detail. Ronda could more than handle herself, but even so, she now rarely went anywhere without Becky accompanying her and driving her. Better safe than sorry, Hunter had learned from the Reigns experience.

The status as Ronda's right hand also granted Becky a place at the table when Helmsley business was being discussed. She rarely said anything, though. Having a seat at the table and being required to give opinions were different things.

"Get yourself a new car. No one who works for me drives a heap of shit like that," Hunter had said one day when he had happened to be getting into his Lamborghini as she had arrived at the house. And so Becky and her girlfriend Bayley had purchased the Lexus. Their old Honda was now used by Bayley when she went to the Helmsley food processing plant to work in the meth lab which was located deep underground below the factory.

Becky found herself wondering what the upcoming meeting was going to be about. All she knew was that Zelina Vega was coming over to the mansion to meet with the boss. If Hunter knew why, he hadn't told her.

She reached the front door. As she put her key in the door, she stopped, cocking her head slightly to one side. She could hear a motorbike; a big, powerful one. Unless she was very much mistaken, it was coming up the driveway towards the Helmsley mansion. Vega wouldn't be coming on a bike. No one who was supposed to be on Helmsley property would be coming on a bike.

Becky took her key back out of the door and pocketed the bunch. She slowly walked back down the few steps to the driveway as the biker came into view. Immediately, Becky recognised him. It was Adam Cole, a member of the Ministry MC biker charter that had recently set up in Stamford City. They were into running whores to make extra income on top of their day jobs. It didn't sit well with Becky, but what mattered was that it didn't tread on Helmsley's toes.

What Becky didn't understand was what Adam Cole was doing on Helmsley property. If he hadn't been invited, which she strongly doubted, he could turn around and get lost.

Cole pulled his bike up near to Becky and killed the engine. The disapproving look on her face didn't seem to register with him. "What are you doing here?" she asked, making it perfectly clear that his presence was not welcome.

"It's a free country ain't it?" he replied.

His attitude triggered Becky's fiery temper. "Yes it is, but this is private property, so fuck off."

A smile appeared on Cole's face. He seemed amused by her anger. "Calm down, Irish. Is Alexa here? I heard she's staying here."

"Oh yeah? Who did you hear that from?" Becky said defiantly. As she spoke, the mansion's front door had opened behind her.

"Who do you think, idiot?" Alexa asked as she walked down the steps.

"Hello, sweet cheeks," Cole said. Alexa rushed up to him and they kissed. He had a spare helmet on the bike, which he handed to her.

Becky realised Alexa was about to take off with Cole, even though Hunter had told her to stay in the mansion for the time being. She was in enough trouble with the law, as Sheriff Deville had made clear.

"You're not supposed to leave the house," Becky reminded the young woman.

With her helmet on, Alexa jumped on the bike behind Cole and stuck a middle finger up at Becky. She had a serious attitude problem, but Becky knew she had to tread carefully on this one. Hunter had taken Alexa in, and both he and Ronda seemed very fond of the little bitch for some reason. In any event, Cole fired up the bike and rode off, laughing at Alexa's response to Becky.

Shaking her head, Becky walked into the mansion through the door that Alexa had left wide open. She found Hunter walking across the hallway. "Did I just hear a bike out there?"

"Yes," Becky said as she closed the door. "It was Adam Cole, one of that Undertaker guy's mob. He took off with Alexa. Looks like they're dating, or at least she's…" Becky decided to stop her sentence there. She had the distinct impression that Alexa made money by whoring herself out, but she wasn't going to say as much to Hunter. He could join the dots himself if he wanted to make that connection.

"I told her not to leave the house, let alone with one of those people," Hunter said. He made the word people sound like he was actually referring to something closer to vermin.

"I told her that. She ignored me," Becky said.

"I'll talk to her later," Hunter said irritably.

* * *

On the way to her meeting at the Helmsley residence, Zelina Vega was trying her best to keep her bad mood in check. She was furious about the Helmsley meth being sold on her turf, and equally as unhappy about the fact that the FBI were in town, forcing her to temporarily dispose of her latest gun shipment. For now, she would only be making the legitimate money that came in from Almas Autos.

There were two reasons that she wanted to keep her cool at the upcoming meeting. Firstly, the FBI were a threat to Helmsley as well as herself. To some extent, they were in the same boat. After all, it had been their alliance that had led to the Reigns massacre. It was possible that they would need to co-operate to keep themselves out of jail.

Secondly, she didn't know for sure that Hunter was the one behind the meth being sold in her territory. Someone might be buying it from him and then selling it back into Stamford City. The reason she thought that was possible was that selling in Vega territory was a stupid thing to do, and Hunter Helmsley was not a stupid man. Somewhere in the back of her mind, it just didn't quite fit.

Vega knew her temper could be wild if she let it go off, so she was going to actively do her best to keep it in check. Only if she found out for sure that Helmsley was fucking with her would he find out what happened if he got on the wrong side of her.

Idly looking out of the passenger window as her driver pulled away from a stoplight, Vega saw a member of the Ministry MC speed past, heading in the opposite direction. He had a young blonde woman on the back of his bike. Seeing the biker reminded Zelina that she was going to have to make a call to the weird guy who called himself Undertaker. He was the head of the charter, and had made an order for some guns from Vega. Thanks to the FBI, he was going to have to wait for his delivery.

A couple of minutes later, the driver slowly turned the car into the Helmsley mansion's driveway. It was not the first time she had been there, but she probably could have counted her number of visits on one hand. Most business was usually conducted over the phone or by meeting somewhere at a neutral venue, however now that the Feds were around, Zelina had wanted to make sure their conversation happened away from any prying eyes or ears. At this point, there was no guarantee that her calls were not being monitored by the Feds.

As the car cruised to a stop outside of the mansion, Vega saw Kevin Owens, one of Helmsley's higher-ups, standing at the bottom of the steps leading to the front door. He was her welcoming committee, apparently.

Opening the car door, Vega managed to put a polite expression on her face. "Morning," she said.

"Good morning," Owens replied. "Mr Helmsley is ready to see you. Follow me, please."

Saying nothing more, Vega followed Owens into the house and across the great entrance hall to the main living room. She supposed she was meant to feel impressed by the house, but she honestly didn't give a shit. All that mattered to her was getting the business she had with Helmsley taken care of.

Owens entered the living room first, formally announcing the visitor. "Zelina Vega."

Hunter Helmsley stood up from one of the living room's three couches, arranged in a U shape around a coffee table. He was the only one in the room. The smile he gave as Vega approached him was polite and professional, and he held out his hand. "Zelina. Can I get you a drink?"

"Hunter," Zelina said politely, accepting the handshake. "No, thank you. I'd prefer to get down to business." She heard the door click as Owens closed it. He would wait outside with her man, likely with barely a word exchanged between them.

"A woman after my own heart," Hunter said. He motioned her to one of the couches and sat down opposite. "So, what brings you here today?"

Zelina sat down on the edge of the seat, leaning forward. "There are two things we need to discuss. Number one, the FBI are in town. Deville told one of my men, wanted me to tell you. Safe to say they're here about the shooting."

Helmsley's expression had quickly hardened. The FBI sniffing around was particularly bad news when you had a meth lab hidden away. It was also bad news when you were involved with the mass slaughter of who knew how many men.

"This is not good," he said in a heavy tone. "Do you think they have anything on the shooting?"

"I'm not arrested yet, so presumably not. But they'll be re-opening the investigation, and they'll have eyes and ears on us as much as they possibly can. It's not exactly a well-kept secret that we are the ones with the biggest motives for what happened. It's time lie low. Very low."

"I agree," Hunter said thoughtfully. "I might have to temporarily shut down my operation. It's something I hate to do, and it's going to cause me a lot of grief..."

"But not as much grief as you and your family going to jail," Zelina said in an understanding tone. "I've made the same decision; no gun shipments for the time being."

"Smart," Hunter nodded. "If there's anything we can do to help each other, we should make contact, but carefully," Hunter said

Vega nodded. "Agreed. No more face to face meetings after today. They'll soon have surveillance up and running once they have their shit straight. Now, speaking of your operation, the second thing we need to talk about," she said, her voice darkening as her anger crept up on her again.

"Oh?" Hunter asked, an eyebrow raising slightly in confusion.

Vega reached into her pants pocket and pulled out the small plastic bag of green meth. She held it up without making an attempt to hand it to him. "This was purchased three blocks from my bar, last night. It's the third time my people have seen green meth being sold in my territory. Want to tell me about that?"

"We don't deal meth, Zelina, we manufacture it in high volumes and distribute it," Hunter said, maintaining his composure perfectly. "Further, we don't distribute it locally, and everyone who buys from us knows not to deal meth in Stamford City. I think you know as well as I do that you don't shit in your own back yard. It's also a good idea not piss off your business associates for the sake of a few bucks."

There not much to disagree with in what he had said, Zelina had to admit. However, she was still holding a bag of green meth in her hand. "Apparently someone's not on message."

"Either that, or that's not Helmsley meth," Hunter said, eyeing it carefully.

"Everyone knows your stuff is green," Vega pointed out.

"Precisely, so if some asshole wanted to start cooking cheap meth and making a lot of money for it, they could try colouring it green and passing it off as something that was recognised as a much better product. If that's the case, I want them found and dealt with as much as you do."

"Hmm, I suppose that's possible," Zelina admitted. "So, how do we find out if this is your meth or not?"

Hunter thought for a second. "I've never cooked the stuff in my life, so I honestly wouldn't be able to tell you. I'll get one of my cooks over here to take a look at it."

"Alright," Vega said, leaning back on the couch. She realised that we the best he could do for now, so there was no point berating him about making her wait.

Hunter took out his phone. He knew that Eric Bischoff was currently working at the lab, meaning that Bayley Martinez would be at home. She would probably be sleeping, but that was bad luck for her. It took a few rings before his call was answered.

"Hello?" Bayley said, sounding sleepy.

"Bayley, Hunter. I need you to come to the house straight away."

"Straight away?" she echoed.

"Yes, straight away," he insisted impatiently. "I figure it takes ten minutes to drive from your place to here. I want you here in fifteen, max."

"Yes, boss. I'm on my way," Bayley said.

Hunter ended the call and returned his attention to his visitor. "Are you sure I can't get you a drink while we wait?"

"Alright, I'll take a coffee, no cream or sugar. Hopefully your meth cook will be able to help us get to the bottom of this."

"She's relatively new to the business, but she's already at least as good as my other cook. She knows her stuff, so I'm sure she'll be able to tell us whether that's Helmsley meth or not."

While Hunter got up and went over to the door to pass on her request for coffee, Vega settled in for what was apparently going to be a fifteen minute wait. For now, she would play things cool.

A lot was riding on whoever this employee of his was. They were going to need to make a convincing job of whatever analysis they came up with if she was going to buy it at face value. One thing was for sure, the subject would not be dropped until she had a satisfactory answer one way or another. Someone was dealing in Vega territory, and whoever it was had a price to pay for it.


	4. Chapter 4

"Pretty fucking bleak out here," Agent Corbin commented to Agent Flair. They were at the disused cement works where Roman Reigns' people had been taken out in a mass shooting.

"Yes," Flair replied, digging her hands deeper into the pockets of her FBI coat to ward off the biting wind. She had a black beanie hat on her head and an annoyed expression on her face. She and her team had been on the site for a few hours, going over it with a fine tooth comb. Their search had turned up nothing at all. The entire area had been cleaned up of any and all evidence of the shooting. A few fading blood stains on the concrete were the only sign that anything had ever happened.

"I don't think we're going to find anything," Corbin tried next.

"Thank you, that's most helpful," Flair said with dry sarcasm. "Whether Deville helped them or not, Vega and Helmsley did a good clean up job here."

"Assuming it was them," Corbin said.

Flair looked at him, making it clear that her patience with his stupid comments were wearing her patience thin. "Of course it was them. I already know it was them. They were here. I can feel them both out here."

Corbin looked at her quizzically. She was a weird one, was Agent Flair. But she got results, which explained why she outranked him.

"The problem is me knowing they were here and that they did it doesn't help us prove it. We have no evidence, thanks to Deville incompetence, or more likely collusion. That's something else I can't prove as yet."

"So where do we go from here?" Corbin asked.

"Two bulls were walking over a hill. Reaching the top, they saw below them a herd of cows. One of the bulls said, 'Quick, let's run down the hill and fuck one of those bulls.' The other bull said, 'No, let's walk down there and fuck the lot.'"

Corbin smiled, but the meaning alluded him.

Flair put a patronising hand on his shoulder. "What I'm saying, Agent Corbin, is that we bide our time. We dig into Helmsley, and we did into Vega. They are both as corrupt as can be. One way or another, we'll find something on them, or at least on some of their people. We'll start taking them down, and some of them are bound to talk once we put enough pressure on them."

"Yes, I see," Corbin nodded.

"I also want search warrants for that Helmsley food processing factory, and for Almas Autos. And, Corbin? I want them yesterday."

"I'll get on it," he replied, taking out his phone.

* * *

"Ah, Bayley, there you are," Hunter said when his employee hurried into the mansion's living room.

"I came as quickly as I could," Bayley said subserviently. She saw that the boss was having coffee with Zelina Vega of all people. What could Vega and also involve her having to hurry over to the mansion on such short notice, she had no idea.

"Zelina, I believe you've met Bayley before," Hunter said.

"Yes," Vega said, drawing the word out slightly and eyeing Bayley with something between surprise and suspicion. "At the time she was chauffeuring Ronda around, as I recall. Now she's cooking meth for you?"

"Turns out she's quite the chemist," Hunter said.

"Uh, how can I help?" Bayley asked nervously. She hadn't been invited to sit, so she was standing in between the two couches while the important people sat.

Vega produced a small bag of green meth from her pants pocket and held it out to Bayley.

"I need to know if that is our product," Hunter said as Bayley took it.

Bayley moved over towards the window and held the bag up to the light, studying it carefully. "No, this isn't Helmsley meth. It's the same colour as ours, but it's not ours."

With a sceptical look on her face, Vega looked from Bayley to Hunter. "I'm going to need better than that."

"This is the same colour as our meth, but the quality is crap," Bayley said. "I would be embarrassed to produce this."

"I'm hearing words, words that don't mean anything," Vega said with a dismissive hand gesture. "Anyone can come with words that don't mean anything. I need proof."

"I can't prove it without taking it to the lab," Bayley said, looking at Hunter.

"You can test it in the lab?" Hunter asked her.

"Yes, I can test the purity of it. We test every batch of our product before we package it. I can compare this stuff to ours and the difference would be plain to see."

Hunter looked at Vega. "You heard her. I can have her take it to the lab and test it."

"I want to see this test," Vega said. "Otherwise how the hell do I know what she's testing or what results she's showing me? I'm not a scientist."

"You're not going to be able to watch the test. Like Bayley just said, she has to do it in the lab. I'm obviously not going to take you to my lab."

"Hmmm," Vega said thoughtfully. She could understand his point, and it was a reasonable one. If she was him, she wouldn't show a rival the location of the meth lab. It would be a stupid thing to do. But at the same time she wasn't going to be satisfied unless she had definitive evidence that Helmsley meth was not being pushed in her territory.

"Blindfold her and take her in the van," Bayley suggested.

Vega and Hunter looked at her.

"Say what now?" Vega asked, clearly wondering who the hell Bayley thought she was.

"I don't see what other way there is of making this happen," Hunter said with a shrug. "You want to see the test. The test needs to happen in the lab. I can't have you knowing where the lab is. It's that or nothing. Again, I can have Bayley test it and get the results to you."

"No," Vega said firmly. She got up and snatched the bag meth from Bayley. "I want to give her this back while we're in the lab and watch her test it. Then, if it's true that it isn't your product, we can decide together what we're going to do about it."

"So you're going to travel there blindfolded in the back of a van?" Hunter asked, for the sake of confirmation. It was obviously a compromising positon to put herself in.

"Like you just said, there's no other way of making this happen, and I'm going to witness this test one way or another. Someone is fucking around on my turf, and I want to know who it is. If it's proven not to be you, I'll be happy to see that proof. It will give us another common axe to grind. If it is your stuff, we're going to have problems, are you're going to have to find out who's selling your shit to my people. Besides, Andrade knows where I am. If anything happened to me, that whole thing with Reigns would look like a schoolyard scuffle compared to what he would bring your way."

"That's why I like you, Zelina," Hunter smiled. "In some ways, we're very much alike."

* * *

"You've got to stop shoplifting, Lexi," Adam Cole said. He was sitting with Alexa at the bar in the headquarters of the Ministry MC. It was dingy and bare bones, but that was how they liked it.

"It was a nice top. I wanted it. I didn't have enough money for it, so I stole it," Alexa said indifferently, taking a hit from a bottle of beer.

Cole swigged from his own beer. "Yeah, and you got caught. Again. Deville is going to end up locking you up."

"Deville is fucking useless," she said with contempt. "I already told you it was her who took me to Hunter's house. I like the Helmsley's. They were always good to my dad, and Ronda, his daughter, and I were friends when we were kids. What I don't like is the way he thinks he can put me on house arrest. It's bullshit."

"I get it," Cole said after taking another hit from his beer. "Lucky I came and busted you out. I figure there ought to be some kind of reward for that."

Alexa got off her stool and climbed onto Cole's lap. "I know what kind of reward you like," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck as they started kissing.

* * *

There had ended up being quite a crew in the van that left the Helmsley mansion bound for the meth lab. Becky had been given the driving duties, with Ronda Helmsley riding beside her up front. She was going to stay behind at the lab after the meth test, as was Bayley. Hunter had ordered the lab shut down until further notice, and had wanted plenty of hands of deck to clean it so that it was evacuated as soon as possible.

"The FBI will show up with a warrant to search the place in the coming days, you can bet your life on it," Hunter had said when talking to Ronda in private before they had left.

The lab was Ronda's domain to supervise, so she hadn't been delighted to learn that it was to be closed down for the foreseeable future. There was no doubt that it was the right decision, though.

"Okay, let's take this off you," Hunter said, untying the knot in the black cloth that was blindfolding Zelina Vega. They were now underground, standing outside of the airtight door that led directly into the Helmsley lab.

"Thank god for that," Vega said grumpily, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

"Okay, Bayley, lead the way," Hunter instructed as she was the one standing closest to the door.

Bayley entered a code into the keypad as the door opened with a whoosh of air that had an unpleasant chemical smell to it. Just inside the door was a rack of yellow hazmat suits. There were also rubber boots and gloves, and several respirator masks. Bayley started handing out the masks to everyone.

"Put this on," she said to Vega. Becky will help you with it if you struggle."

Vega sighed, looking at the mask with contempt. She didn't relish the prospect of wearing it, not least because it would mess up her hair. "Is that really necessary?" she asked.

"Depends how sick you want to get," Ronda said, receiving a warning look from her father, telling her to mind her tone with their important ally.

Within a minute, all five of them had their masks on, and were ready to descend to the floor of the lab.

"I thought I was done wearing these bloody things," Becky said to Bayley as they led the way down the stairs to the lab. She was remembering back to her days as Bayley's lab assistant, and the memories were not fond ones. It was a job she had hated from beginning to end. Thankfully, Bayley now had a new assistant by the name of Renee Young, a sweet little thing who no one would ever suspect of working in a meth lab.

"I'm used to it," Bayley said. "Although I'm set for a break, by the sound of it."

"Trust me, I'll find something for you to do," Ronda said sternly from behind them, apparently having overheard their quiet conversation.

"Sorry," Bayley said sheepishly, turning around and seeing a familiar glare in her supervisor's eyes behind the mask. Ronda's mood probably hadn't been helped by the news that she was going to have to help clean the lab, although the image of her scrubbing away with everyone else amused Bayley.

"Just move," Ronda said irritably.

"Quite the setup you have down here," Vega said to Hunter, looking over the stair railing at the lab. They were walking further back from the other three.

"Yeah. And I intend to keep it that way after the Feds are gone," Hunter said.

Eric Bischoff and his assistant were working on a cook, or at least they had been until they had noticed a crowd of people coming down the stairs into the lab. "What's going on?" he called out.

"The FBI are in town," Ronda replied, talking loudly as her mask muffled her words somewhat. "Finish what you're doing, then we're shutting down. The whole lab needs to be cleaned before we leave tonight."

"And Bayley needs to run a test for us," Hunter added, joining his daughter in front of Bischoff. "Someone has been selling green meth in Ms Vega's part of the city. Bayley think it isn't ours, so we're here to prove it."

It wasn't Bischoff's place to ask why Zelina Vega was in the lab, walking with Bayley over to one of the workstations.

"So, how are you going to test it?" Vega enquired.

"I'm going to melt it down," Bayley said. "I'm also going to take some of our product and melt that down too, and you'll be able to see the differences between this crap and what we produce. I could do a more forensic analysis, but it won't be necessary."

Without being asked, Becky had gone and fetched one of the many fresh packages of Helmsley meth from over on the other side of the lab. She brought it over and handed it to Bayley.

"Thank you," Bayley said, her smile unseen behind her mask. She opened the package and soon had a small amount of the meth melting down. Beside it, she also melted down the stuff she been given by Vega.

"They still look the same to me," Vega said after watching for a few minutes.

"Yeah, they do," Hunter said with interest. He had come to stand next to Vega, as interested as she was in the outcome of the test. Despite making a fortune from meth, he had never been involved in cooking any himself.

"They won't once they're melted and left to cool for a bit, trust me," Bayley said.

Taking her at her word for now, Vega watched in silence until the test was completed.

"Now do you see a difference?" Bayley asked when both pools of melted meth began to cool down. There was enthusiasm in her voice. She liked explaining her art to her boss, and to someone as important as Ms Vega.

"Yes," Vega admitted, pointing to the meth that one of her men had purchased. "This one is cloudier than yours. Yours is perfectly clear."

Bayley nodded. "Precisely. That's because ours is pure. At least, as pure as it's possible to get. This other stuff is crap by comparison. It's been made by half-assed chemist who thinks he can get rich by imitating my product." Her irritation came through, until she remember her place and looked at Hunter. "Sorry," she said humbly.

"Don't apologise, Bayley. Good work," Hunter said. "Zelina, now you see this isn't Helmsley meth. We've got someone trying to make it look like they're selling my product on your turf. They're either trying to get rich, or they're trying to set us against each other."

"Yes," Vega agreed, anger in her voice. It was no longer directed at Helmsley, but at whoever the other meth cook was. "I'll put my people to work. We'll find out who this pendejo is, then you and I can decide between us what we're going to do with them."

"Sounds like a plan," Hunter said. "But watch your ass. The FBI will be waiting for someone to slip up and give them a reason to make arrests. If you or I so much as spit gum on the floor they'll have us behind bars."

"Noted," Vega said. "Don't worry, I know how to be discreet when I need to be."


	5. Chapter 5

Looking exhausted, Bayley walked into her living room and flopped down on the couch next to Becky.

"You look worn out," Becky said sympathetically, putting a hand on her girlfriend's knee.

Bayley let out a sigh and ran her hands through her messy hair. It always came out of a session in the meth lab looking worse for wear. "I am," she said tiredly. "I need a shower, but I've got to rest for a minute first. On the positive side, the lab is completely cleaned and mothballed. As we speak, the machine that conceals the entrance is being switched out for one that is no different to the rest in the factory. By the time the FBI show up with a search warrant, they'll have no chance of finding anything."

"That's good. One less thing for us all to worry about. This FBI business has Hunter and Stephanie worried."

"To say the least," Bayley sighed. "Rightly so to be honest. Taking the FBI lightly would be a big mistake. Hunter doesn't make mistakes."

"We'd better hope not, or we're all fucked," Becky said pointedly.

* * *

At 9am sharp, Agent Flair marched through the front entrance of the Helmsley food processing plant. Agent Corbin was just behind her, with several van loads of agents following them.

"What's all this about?" a female receptionist asked the approaching Flair, looking shocked and intimidated at the sight of so many FBI jackets.

"This is about these agents tearing this place apart from top to bottom," Flair said matter of fact. "Where's Mrs Helmsley's office?"

The receptionist hesitantly pointed at a flight of stairs. Looking up there, Flair saw a couple of offices. One of them would belong to Stephanie. She lead the way up there at a brisk pace, Corbin on her heels.

At the top of the stairs, Flair saw Stephanie's name on one of the office doors, along with the word manager. She marched over there and barged in without knocking.

Stephanie Helmsley was sitting behind her desk, impeccably dressed in a black suit. She looked over the top of her computer screen at Flair, a look of surprise on her face.

"Knock, knock," Flair said sarcastically before slamming the warrant down on Stephanie's desk, holding her ID badge up with her other hand. "Agent Flair, FBI. This Agent Corbin, and this is a warrant to search these premises. As we speak, my team are moving all of your staff off of the factory floor. You and everyone else in these offices need to join them outside, now. We're going to go over this place with a fine tooth comb."

"A search warrant? Searching for what?" Stephanie asked, looking at the document with surprise and indignation written all over her face. It was an excellent performance.

"Searching for evidence to put you, your husband, your daughter, and the rest of you scumbags behind bars."

"Well, you're not going to find anything here. This is a food processing plant," Stephanie said.

"Save it," Flair said disinterestedly as a bunch of her team entered the office, immediately starting to ransack it. "Get her out of here," she ordered Corbin.

"Come on, Mrs Helmsley, let's go and wait outside," Corbin said, speaking more respectfully than has superior had.

Although she looked angry at the destruction of her office, Stephanie knew better than to object. The FBI had a warrant, so they could do whatever they wanted. "Hey, Agent? How much do you make in a year?" she said on the way to the door.

"A lot of money," Flair said, finding the exchange amusing.

"Yeah? Then get a better plastic surgeon," Stephanie said, smiling smugly at the blow she had landed as she left the office.

Agent Flair glared after her, all the more determined to find something that would wipe that smile off her face.

Once she had been led outside, joining the rest of the staff from the evacuated factory, Stephanie took out her phone and called home. Aware that her calls might be being monitored, she had already prepared herself on how to act.

"Helmsley residence," said Kevin Owens' voice when the call was answered.

"Kevin, Stephanie here. You won't believe this, but the FBI just showed up with a search warrant. They've kicked everyone out of the plant, including me. I don't know what they think they're going to find with this charade, but you'd better send Hunter down here to pick me up."

"I'll go and find him right away," Owens said.

* * *

Hunter Helmsley was sitting in the mansion's main living room, along with Ronda. He was trying to keep himself calm by watching a news channel on the enormous TV, but Ronda's constant fidgeting was annoying him.

"Sit still, please. You're putting me on edge," he said.

"I'm already on edge," Ronda said grumpily. "How much longer is it going to be until we find out if the FBI showed up or not?"

"You know the plan," Hunter said with forced patience. "If nothing happens, your mom will be calling shortly with what will seem like a routine call to say she'll be coming home for lunch. If the FBI show up first thing, as I expected, we'll know about it real soon."

Barely had he finished speaking when they heard someone pounding on the front door.

"They were quicker than I thought," Hunter said calmly to Ronda as he got up. He had known full well that if the FBI raided the factory, they would raid the mansion too. They would find nothing, as he had already taken precautions, thanks to Sheriff Deville's tip off.

"Now they're going to wreck our fucking home," Ronda snarled.

"Yes, they are, but they're not going to find anything. Just keep your head until they're gone."

With that, Hunter walked out of the living room. He was met by Owens, who was on his way to the front door. He was typing out a text message on his phone. "Stephanie was just on the phone. The FBI are at the plant. I'm texting Orton to go and pick her up."

The pounding at the door happened again. "FBI! Open the door before we break it down!" a male voice yelled.

Owens hurried across the hallway to obey the command.

* * *

A black SUV pulled up outside of the Helmsley food processing plant. Getting out, Randy Orton saw all of the staff standing outside in the parking lot, having been kicked out by the FBI. The steel roller shutter door for the factory was up, allowing him to see people in FBI jackets crawling all over the place like ants over a nest. He hoped like hell that the meth lab entrance was hidden well enough, and any other signs that there might have been as to the plant's other purpose had been completely removed. If not, they would all be eating prison food before long.

"Randy! What are you doing here? Where's Hunter?" Stephanie asked. It was all part of an act. Hunter had sat everyone around the table at the mansion the previous evening and explained in detail what they needed to do when the FBI carried out the raids that he had considered almost inevitable.

"The FBI are raiding the house, too," Orton said. The faux exchange was pretty much a waste of time because there were no FBI people within earshot. There was one walking out of the factory, though, he saw in the background. It was a tall blonde woman who looked like she was in charge. She appeared to be issuing orders to a couple of other agents. "Is that the Agent in charge?"

Turning, Stephanie saw Agent Flair. "Yes, her name's Flair. Oh look, it looks like I'm going to be blessed with another encounter."

Flair was indeed walking over to Stephanie and Orton.

"Have you finished trashing my factory and costing me money yet?" Stephanie asked impatiently as Flair approached.

"No," came the simple reply. Flair looked at Orton. "You are?"

"Randy Orton. I've come to give Mrs Helmsley a ride home. In case you haven't noticed, it's cold out here."

"My heart bleeds," Flair said, her tone conveying no emotion at all. "You'll find your home is being searched also," she took pleasure in telling Stephanie.

"Yes, I'm aware," Stephanie snapped. "You're wasting your time. All of Helmsley's business interests are strictly above board. You'll find nothing."

"We'll see about that, won't we? Personally, I think there's a meth lab somewhere, and I also think there's evidence to link you to the mass shooting of Roman Reigns' people, as well as his murder."

"You'd love to prove any of that, wouldn't you? You might get yourself on CNN," Stephanie said patronisingly. With that, she turned and walked towards the SUV. "Come on, Randy, let's go."

* * *

Later that day, after turning every room in the Helmsley mansion upside down, the FBI had found nothing to allude to any kind of illegal activity. After the main living room had been searched, the family and staff had been allowed to stay in there while the rest of the house was searched.

"Are you done here yet?" Hunter asked heatedly when the agent in charge entered the room. Being stuck in one room for several hours was more than enough to test his patience. It would have looked odd if he wasn't annoyed about it.

"Yes, Mr Helmsley, the search is completed," the agent said, his displeasure at the lack of a result more than obvious.

"And you found nothing, of course," Ronda snapped.

"Ronda," Hunter said, reminding her to keep her cool. "The FBI are doing their jobs. Now that they've found nothing here, and they'll have found nothing at the plant, I'm sure they're satisfied as to our innocence in relation to their investigation, whatever it is about."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, sir," the agent said. "But for now, we're done." With that, he left the room, following the last of his agents out of the mansion's front door. When it banged closed behind him, Hunter looked at Orton.

"Right, get everyone over here. It's going to take all night to clean this place up."

* * *

"I'll have another beer," Alexa Bliss slurred, slamming an empty bottle down onto the bar at the biker club owned by the Ministry MC.

"I think you've had enough, Lexi," Adam Cole said, taking a hit from his own beer.

Alexa bristled immediately. "Don't tell me I've had enough. I want another beer."

"No, you don't. You're drunk already. Let's go back to my place, huh?" He got up and offered his hand to help her off her stool.

"You're no fun anymore, you know that?" she snapped at him. Pushing his hand away, she dropped off the stool and headed for the door.

Cole rolled his eyes at Bray Wyatt, who was behind the bar. These kind of histrionics from Alexa were not exactly new, particularly when she had been drinking. "Where are you going?" he asked tiredly, going after her.

"Back home. Spending the night watching TV with Hunter is more fun than being treated like a kid by you," she yelled over shoulder as she crashed through the door, out into the parking lot.

Now Cole's temper got the better of him. He stopped in the doorway and shouted after her across the lot. "Fine! Call me when you're ready to stop acting like a kid! Then I won't treat you like one!"

Alexa stuck a finger up at him, not bothering to look back. Just up the street, a truck stopped at a red light. Bold as brass, she walked up to it, opened the door and got in.

"What the fuck?" the fat, middle aged driver demanded.

"Just drive. Take me across town," Alexa said, slamming the door closed.

"Does this look like a taxi to you?"

Alexa rolled her eyes impatiently. "I'll suck your dick."

Moments later, the light went green and the truck pulled away.


	6. Chapter 6

The task of getting the Helmsley mansion back in order after the FBI raid was an extensive one. All of the staff who worked there regularly had been called in to assist.

Becky Lynch happened to be walking across the entrance hallway when the phone started ringing. Since she was allowed to answer it, and there was no one more senior around to do so, she walked over and picked up the call. "Helmsley residence."

"Becky? It's Alexa. I'm at the truck stop. You'd better get down here, fast."

To say Becky was confused would have been an understatement. "Alexa, what are you on about? What truck stop?"

"The one that's not far past the entrance to the golf course on the way out of town. Get over here, and bring someone with you."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Just hurry up," Alexa said impatiently, and the line went dead.

"What the fuck?" Becky asked under her breath, replacing the handset. She made her way over to the living room, needing to speak to the boss. Opening the door, she found Hunter sitting on the couch with a shot of whisky in hand. He had helped with the tidying up for a couple of hours, before leaving his staff to do the rest. By contrast, Stephanie had done nothing to help. She was sitting there nursing a glass of wine. It had to be a nice life being the Queen of the castle, Becky thought.

"What is it?" Hunter asked, looking over at Becky.

"Uh, Alexa just called. She told me to go and meet her at the truck stop near the golf course."

"What for? What's she doing out there?"

"She wouldn't tell me, but she did say I should bring someone with me. Do you want me to go?"

Hunter sighed, looking annoyed for a moment. Well, you chose to take Alexa in, Becky thought.

"Yes, go," Hunter decided. "Take KO with you. I think it's time I had a chat with her when you get back. She needs to calm down a bit."

"Yes, she does," Stephanie commented, indicating that her patience with Alexa's antics was starting to wear a bit thin.

* * *

"Alright, so where is she?" Becky asked when Kevin Owens drove their SUV into the parking area at the truck stop that Alexa Bliss had described. No sooner had she asked the question than a short blonde woman walked around the back of a truck, heading their way. The SUV's headlights revealed that it was Alexa.

"There she is," Owens said. "And it looks like she's got a black eye."

"What the hell has she gotten herself into now?" Becky said. She opened the door and got out of the SUV. Both she and Kevin were wearing heavy black coats and beanie hats, doing their best to look discreet without looking like they were showing up to steal something. Unwanted attention was the last thing they needed.

Meanwhile, Alexa had gone around to Owens' side of the vehicle. "What's going on? Are you okay?" he asked her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm okay. You'd better look in the truck," she said, pointing to the one that she had been hiding behind.

"Stay here," Owens told her, looking warily at Becky.

What the fuck am I about to get into? Becky asked herself. No matter what it was, she didn't need to check with Hunter for instructions. He would want Alexa to be protected and helped, there was no doubt about that.

As they approached the truck, Becky noticed that the engine was off, and the doors were closed.

"Let me open it," Owens said as they approached the passenger side door.

"No, I've got it," Becky said. Although she had been working for Helmsley in a trusted position for some time, she still felt like she had something to prove to most of the guys. She pulled the door open and climbed up the step into the cab. She wasn't prepared for what she saw. There was blood everywhere. A fat truck driver was lying dead across the seats, the handle end of a screwdriver sticking out the side of his neck. "Oh fuck," she said, feeling queasy.

"What is it?" Owens asked from behind her, although he had probably already guessed.

"We've got a body to get rid of." Becky dropped down off the step, allowing Owens to go up and have a look.

"Jesus Christ," he sighed when he saw what they were faced with. "We're going to have to unhook the trailer. We'll take the unit way out into the country where no one will find it, and we'll torch it with the body inside."

Alexa had timidly appeared next to Becky while Owens had been speaking. Her usual attitude was gone, hardly surprising since she had killed someone.

"What the hell happened here?" Becky demanded.

"I traded him a blowjob for a ride home. We stopped here for me to hold up my end of the bargain before he took me to the mansion. He must have been tired, maybe he'd been driving for a long time, because he was kind of falling asleep after I sucked him off. I decided to forget the ride home, I'd steal his wallet and make my own way back. Unfortunately he woke up while I was picking his pocket, and he lost his shit. He punched me in the face, then he grabbed me and pinned me down. I thought he was going to strangle me or something. The screwdriver was in on the floor, like, in the foot well bit. I was able to reach it, so grabbed it and stuck it in the fucker's neck. I didn't think it would go right through like that, but it did. And, yeah, you can see the result."

"Fucking hell," Owens muttered quietly. There was no time to dwell on what she had done. The situation had to be dealt with. To that end, he looked at Becky. "Help me unhook the trailer. I'll drive the truck, the two of you can follow me in the SUV."

"Hunter's going to be pissed with me, isn't he?" Alexa asked, looking down at the floor.

"Oh yeah," Becky assured her. "But right now, that's the least of our problems. Go and get in the car."

Alexa did as she was told without objection, leaving Becky and Owens to work on unhooking the trailer. Neither of them were truckers, but they managed to figure out how to get the trailer's legs down and unhook all of the cabling without too much of a problem.

Climbing back into the cab, Owens used his strength to shove the dead driver's body out of the driver's seat. With that done, he ripped open the dash below the steering wheel and tore out some kind of electronic device.

"What's that?" Becky asked.

"The tracker. Not much point us hiding this heap of shit if a satellite signal is going to lead the police straight to it."

Becky nodded. "Good thinking. Let's get the hell out of here before some nosy bastard comes over asking questions."

* * *

The next morning, two police officers were at the truck stop. The owner, annoyed at having a trailer left on the site, which was not permitted, had called the company it belonged to. When they had been unable to contact the driver or to trace the truck via its tracker, they had called the police. One of the officers had spotted CCTV cameras on the outside of the truck stop's restaurant. One of them was pointed in the direction of the abandoned trailer.

"Does that camera work?" the officer asked the truck stop's owner.

"Yes, sir. All of my cameras work. I can get you the footage from last night, but I don't know if it's going to show you much considering it was dark. We don't have much in the way of lighting out here."

"I'll take the footage. Our tech guys will be able to enhance it if they need to."

The truck stop owner nodded. "I'll get it pulled down onto a USB drive for you."

* * *

On her way back from fetching a cup of coffee from the police station's vending machine, Agent Flair happened to look into an office as she walked by. She saw Sheriff Deville standing behind one of her officers, who was sitting at a computer. They were both looking intently at something on the screen. Instinct told Flair to go and see what they were doing. Over the years, she had learned not to ignore her instincts.

"Anything interesting?" Flair asked, walking into the office.

Deville glanced at her. After the rocky start they had gotten off to, they had started to be more civil with each other in the past day or so. "A truck driver has gone missing, along with his truck. The trailer was left behind at a truck stop just outside of town. We're watching the CCTV now."

Flair moved around to look over Deville's shoulder, disappointed that it didn't sound like it would be anything to do with the Helmsley/Vega investigation. "That's not bad quality footage. Enhanced?"

"Yeah. We just got it back," the officer operating the computer said. "Hey, here we go. Someone just came around the back of the truck, probably a passenger."

Flair watched a short blonde woman walking across the parking lot towards the camera. She walked over to the building, but didn't go inside.

"There was a payphone outside," the officer reported. "I bet she's using it."

"I want a list of all the calls made from that phone in the past twenty four hours," Deville ordered.

The officer nodded, continuing to watch the footage. After a few moments, the woman walked back across the lot and disappeared back behind the truck.

"Run it back and get a close up of her face," Flair instructed.

The officer obeyed her. He was even able to zoom in a bit to get a better image.

"That looks like Alexa Bliss," Deville said, eyebrows raised.

"You know her?" Flair asked, looking at the Sheriff.

Deville nodded. "Yes. She a petty criminal and a whore. She's also the daughter of one of Hunter Helmsley's former employees, who's now dead. She's actually living at the Helmsley mansion right now."

"Is she now?" Flair asked slowly, showing a lot more interest in the image on the screen.

"I'll skip forward until something else happens," the officer said.

He had to advance about twenty minutes before an SUV could be seen pulling up near to the truck. He slowed the video back down to normal speed as Alexa came around the back of the truck again. Two people got out of the car. One of them was clearly a woman, the other a rather large man. Although they both had hats on, red hair was coming out of the one on the woman's head.

"That has to be Becky Lynch," Deville said. "She's thought to have recently been recruited by Helmsley."

The three of them watched on, although from their point of view most of what happened was obscured by the truck trailer. It wasn't until the man walked around to the driver's side and got in that they saw anything meaningful. The redhead joined Alexa in the SUV, and followed the truck out of the camera shot.

"Looking at the size of him, I'd make a bet that was Kevin Owens, another of Helmsley's people," Deville said. "I think I'd better go and speak to Mr Helmsley."

"No," Flair said, smiling, relishing the task she now had in front of her. "I'll take this from here. You find out if a call was made from that payphone to the Helmsley residence. If there was, there are three people who are in a world of trouble."


	7. Chapter 7

A black FBI car and three police squad cars were parked outside the Helmsley mansion. Agent Flair walked up to the front door, flanked by Agent Corbin and a bunch of police officers. She knocked authoritatively on the door.

It was opened after a few moments by a man who was not Kevin Owens. "Agent Flair, FBI," she announced, holding up her ID. "This is Agent Corbin. I'm looking for Kevin Owens, Rebecca Lynch and Alexa Bliss."

"Uh, they're all here," the man said reluctantly. "You'd better come in." He stood aside to admit them.

"Thank you. Your name?" Flair asked as she walked into the mansion's entrance hall.

"Randy Orton."

"Randy, will you go and fetch the people I need to speak to?"

Sighing, Randy nodded that he would do as she asked.

Corbin and the police officers all filed through the door. When the last one was in, Flair turned around to scold them. "Close the door. You'll let all the warm air out."

Not for the first time, Corbin looked at her as if she was a bit strange, to say the least.

Orton had disappeared through one of the doors off the entrance hallway. Shortly, Hunter Helmsley emerged through the same door. Becky Lynch and Kevin Owens were behind him. "What's all this about?" Hunter demanded, showing no inclination at all that he already had a very good idea about the answer to the question.

With important business to handle, Flair's usual cockiness was set aside. "Kevin Owens and Becky Lynch. Good. Now I need Alexa Bliss. Where is she?"

"Alexa! Come down here please!" Hunter shouted, his voice impressively loud in the expansive hallway.

Moments later, the diminutive blonde appeared at the top of the grand staircase. "What are they doing here?" she cried.

"Come down here, Alexa," Hunter said.

For a moment, Alexa looked like she was considering the choice between doing as she was told and making a run for it. Jumping out of a first floor window wasn't likely to be much of an escape plan, so she begrudgingly walked down the stairs, joining the rest of the group.

"Okay, the reason I'm here today is to place you, Kevin, you, Rebecca, and you, Alexa, under arrest," Flair informed them.

"On what charge?" Hunter demanded. Looking at the three in question, he saw defiance from Owens and Becky. By contrast, Alexa looked like she was about to burst into tears.

"For now, suspicion of kidnap. But once we find a truck, and likely the driver's body, we'll be upgrading that to suspicion of murder." She proceeded to read them their Miranda rights, and officers stepped in to cuff their hands behind their backs.

"I'm saying nothing until I see a lawyer," Owens said.

"None of you are," Hunter said. "This is obviously all bullshit. We'll get it taken care of, but until then, don't say anything to anyone. You hear me, Alexa? I'll get you a lawyer."

Alexa nodded, looking down at the floor.

"That'll be all from you, Mr Helmsley," Flair said professionally. She made a hand gesture towards the door for the benefit of the officers. "Take them away. I want one in each car."

"Yes, ma'am," one of the officers acknowledged.

Corbin followed the police officers as they walked the three arrested suspects outside. Becky hadn't said a word the whole time other than to confirm she understood her rights. A glare in Flair's direction was her only other reaction. Alexa was the last one escorted out of the mansion, at which point Flair put a conspiratorial hand on Hunter's shoulder. "I don't know about you, Mr Helmsley, but that one looks to me like she could sing like a canary."

"There's nothing to sing about," Hunter said, shrugging her hand off his shoulder.

"We'll see about that, won't we? I doubt the idea of a life sentence for murder is going to seem very appealing to her when we find the body of the truck driver she killed. You see, Hunter, I already know what happened last night. That little whore got in that truck to do what she does best, things turned violent for whatever reason, she somehow killed the guy, she called that phone right over there," she said, pointing at it sitting on a table at the side of the hallway, "and you sent those two flunkies of yours to take care of the mess. I have CCTV footage of them all at the scene. What I don't have, yet, is the truck or the body. But I will find them."

"Nice story, Agent Flair. You should write a book or something," Hunter said calmly.

"One day, I probably will," she said arrogantly, and with that, she followed the rest of her team outside and closed the door.

As soon as the door closed, Hunter walked over to the living room, Orton walking with him. They found Stephanie and Ronda standing there, where they had been just out of sight of Flair and the rest of the police.

"That didn't sound good at all," Stephanie said.

"It's not," Hunter said, a grimace on her face. "That is one strange woman, but she's no idiot. She's figured out exactly what happened, and if they do somehow find that truck and the body, we could be in deep shit. If it was just KO and Becky that would be one thing, but Alexa? I don't know what she might say to get herself off a murder charge. I'd like to think she wouldn't throw us under the bus, but I can't guarantee it."

"I don't think she would do that at all," Ronda said in defence of her friend. "Either way, what the hell are we going to? They're arrested now. We need to help them somehow."

Hunter nodded, thinking about how to respond. "We do indeed. But the first thing that's going to happen, Ronda, is you're going to call Bayley and get her up here. She needs to be told what's happened to Becky. And then I'm going to want KO's wife up here for the same reason."

"Why Bayley first?" Ronda asked.

"Because she's going to be the one who helps me put a stop to this mess before it has a chance to properly blow up in our faces."

* * *

Half an hour later, Hunter was in his office, having decided that would be the best place to receive Bayley. It was obvious that the news of Becky's arrest was going to upset her, so it had to come directly from the boss, along with the assurance that he was going to give.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Hunter called out, getting up from his desk.

Orton opened the door. "Bayley is here, boss," he announced.

When his employee walked in, Hunter got a surprise. Her hair was cut shorter, in a bob. "Woah, I like what you've done with your hair. It suits you."

"Thanks. It kept annoying me in the lab, so I figured it was time to get it cut. So, what's going on? Where's Becky?" Bayley asked, clearly worried.

Orton closed the door, remaining outside the office.

"She's been arrested, Bayley," Hunter said, breaking it to her as gently as he could.

Bayley turned pale immediately. "You mean over what happened last night?"

"Yes. They're going to try and pin a murder charge on her, KO, and Alexa."

"No! You can't let that happen!" Bayley shrieked. In her panic, she grabbed him by his suit jacket's lapels. "You can't let this happen! I can't lose Becky, she's all I have! You've got to do something to help her!"

Hunter could easily have reacted angrily to her getting physical with him, but he could understand the reaction. He put his hands on her cheeks, looking her right in the eye. "Calm down," he said gently. "It's going to be taken care of. We're going to make all of this go away, and Becky will be back home, hopefully in a matter of days."

"How?" Bayley practically begged, looking at him with trust in her eyes. She could tell that his words were not empty ones.

"That's where I need you to focus, and help me," he said, calmly removing her hands from his jacket. "I have a way out of this for all of us. It's kind of a nuclear option I've been keeping in my back pocket in case a situation like this ever arose. You see, Alexa has been arrested too, and I'm gravely concerned about what she might be pressured into saying. She's grateful to me for giving her a home, and she's a lifelong friend of Ronda, so I don't think for a moment she would want to drop us in the shit. But the thing is, she's not exactly mentally strong in the way that Becky and Kevin are. The FBI are going to put their pressure on her. They're very good at breaking people like her."

"Tell me what I need to do," Bayley said impatiently. "The quicker I can get Becky released, the better. I can't bear the thought of her locked in a cell."

"First, I need you to clear your head. I get that you're upset and angry, I am to. Anger isn't going to help us, though. Are you with me?"

Bayley took a moment, inhaling deeply and closing her eyes. He was right. Whatever this plan was, she needed to get her mind on it, and it alone. "I'm with you," she said with determination.

"Good. This is what I need you to do. It should be quite simple for you, so long as you remain calm and do exactly what I'm about to tell you."

* * *

Bayley sat in her car, outside the State Governor's Office, which happened to be only a few miles away from the Helmsley mansion. She was looking in the rear-view mirror, waiting for someone specific to leave the building. She had been waiting for some time, much to her frustration.

Finally, after nearly two hours, Bayley saw the person she was waiting for. A dark haired woman wearing a black business suit with a heavy coat over the top stepped out of the building. She put a briefcase down, taking a moment to adjust a troublesome, expensive-looking scarf with leather gloved hands. A burly bald-headed man – a security detail if Bayley had ever seen one - who was also wearing a suit picked the briefcase up and handed it back to the woman when she was ready to take it. With that, they walked down the stone steps and began to walk along the sidewalk towards where Bayley was parked.

It was time to act. Bayley got out of the car when the woman had almost reached it. The security guy quickly stepped across in front of the dark-haired woman, cutting off any danger that Bayley might have posed to her. Bayley raised her hands slightly to indicate that she was posing no threat. "Governor Blanchard?" she appealed to the woman.

"Yes?" the governor said guardedly. The encounter was not exactly routine.

"I have a message for you from your friend from Kansas City," Bayley said. She had no idea what it meant, but it was what Hunter had told her to say. It got a reaction. The Governor's eyes widened slightly before she made a gesture with her head, telling her bodyguard to move out of earshot.

"You're here for Helmsley?" Tessa Blanchard asked quietly once they had what passed for privacy.

"I am. He needs to see you, and soon. He says you knew this day would come. Now it's here."

Blanchard didn't look pleased with what she heard, but she clearly understood it. A tight grimace appeared on her face while she thought for a moment. "Tell him I'll meet him for dinner tonight. 8pm at Chef's Table."

"Got it," Bayley said, although the Governor was already walking away. Her part was now done. It was over to Hunter.


	8. Chapter 8

"I hoped we'd get something from her," Agent Flair said. She was standing with Agent Corbin, looking through the two-way mirrored window into the interrogation room where Alexa Bliss and her lawyer were sitting.

"She's not quite as stupid as she looks," Corbin commented. "But then it doesn't take much to sit there and say, 'I've been advised not to say anything.'"

"Right," Flair grumbled. Unfortunately for her, the law had required her to offer a lawyer to Alexa and the other two suspects before speaking to them, and they had all said they wanted one. In a move that surprised no one, the lawyers that had shown up courtesy of Hunter Helmsley had advised all three of them to say nothing.

While they had evidence to put all three suspects at the truck stop, and CCTV footage of the truck being driven away, what the FBI really needed was to find the truck and the driver's body. That would move the case on from what was officially a kidnap investigation to a murder enquiry. There would almost certainly be DNA evidence to further tie them to the crime, making guilty verdicts pretty much a slam dunk at that point.

"All we need is the truck and the body," Corbin said.

"Yes," Flair said. "I can see Ms Bliss's attitude changing significantly when she's looking at a life sentence for murder. That's when we put a deal in front of her offering her a new identity and witness protection in exchange for everything she knows about Helmsley. I don't care about putting some cheap whore away for killing a truck driver, I want Helmsley taking down."

"I hear you," Corbin said, watching Alexa nervously drinking from a bottle of water.

* * *

Hunter Helmsley walked into Chef's Table right on time at 8pm. In addition to being one of the most expensive restaurants in the city, serving food that was actually worth the prices, it also had a private room in the back for VIP guests. Governor Blanchard certainly met the criteria, as did Hunter himself. When he was led into the private room by the restaurant's owner, he found the Governor already sitting at the large circular table.

"Hunter, good to see you," she said, rising from her chair for a handshake.

"Tessa. It's been a while," Hunter said as they shook.

"I'll be back shortly to take your order," the manager said, leaving them to it and closing the door to give them privacy.

"You've been causing a stir lately. It's unlike you," Blanchard said as they both sat down. "Help yourself to the wine."

Hunter realised that she was referring to the Reigns incident and the subsequent FBI investigation. She probably thought that was why they were meeting. "It was unfortunate what happened to those guys," he said as he poured himself a glass of wine, also topping up her glass. "Contrary to what the FBI seem to think, I didn't have any involvement in it."

"Really?" Blanchard asked, clearly not believing him. Her slight raise of an eyebrow demonstrated that.

"You've been making the news yourself," Hunter said, avoiding her sceptical question. "Word is you're lining up a run for President next year."

"I am," she was pleased to announce. "I've got some good backing, too. If I play it right, I might be in with a good chance, at least of getting the nomination. I assume I can count on a donation from you for my campaign?"

"Absolutely," Hunter smiled. "It's always good to have friends in high places."

"That it is," she agreed, before raising her glass. "To friends in high places."

Hunter raised his glass, and they drank the toast. "Let's have a look at what to order," he said, picking up a menu. He noticed that she didn't bother taking one. "Are you not eating?"

"I am. I already know what I'm going to get."

They made small talk for a couple of minutes while Hunter decided on what to order. When the manager returned, they placed their orders, and he again left them to it.

Another few minutes were spent talking politics before the Governor used the pause in conversation caused by her having a drink to change the subject. "So, it was something of a surprise to hear about my friend from Kansas City earlier today, particularly if the Reigns mess was nothing to do with you."

In truth, Kansas City had no significance to either of them, it was merely a code phrase that had been established between them for the eventuality that a secretive meeting like this needed to take place.

"Yes. This is about an entirely different mess that is starting to unfold. It has potential to get quite serious."

"I'm listening," Blanchard said, keeping her tone devoid of any emotion.

"I have the daughter of one of my former employees living with me. He was killed on a job I sent him on, so I feel a great sense of responsibility to look after her. Anyway, last night she made the unwise decision to hitch a ride home with a truck driver. Instead of taking her to my place, he took her to a truck stop, where he tried to rape her. There was a struggle, and she ended up stabbing the guy to death. Two of my people went over there and helped her get rid of the truck and the body, but this morning the FBI Agent working the Reigns case showed up and arrested them. I assume they have CCTV footage or something."

Hunter had embellished some of the details to make the incident seem more defensible from Alexa's point of view. It didn't seem to have made much of an impression on the Governor, whose face had remained pretty much impassive throughout.

"Well, that's a fine mess, isn't it?" she said, sipping from her wine glass. "You say this guy attacked and tried rape... Sorry, what's her name?"

"Alexa."

"This guy tried to rape Alexa. Why did you need to get rid of the body if it was self defence?"

Smart question, Hunter thought. "Because the FBI are looking for any way they can find to get at me. It was obvious to me that they would use this to get at Alexa, hoping she would give them something on me."

I'm not sure what you want me to do about all this?" she asked.

Now they were getting down to business, Hunter thought. In a way, he enjoyed this kind of encounter. "You know exactly what I want you to do about it, Tessa. I want you to make this FBI investigation go away, and I want my three people released without charge. Make that happen, and we're even."

"What makes you think I can do that?" she asked, maintaining an excellent poker face.

"I know you can do it. I know you're close to FBI Assistant Director Jarrett. So, what I need you to do is call in a favour, grease a palm, I don't care how you do it, just make this FBI team and this investigation disappear."

"And if I can't?"

"You can. But to answer the question, that would be a problem," Hunter said matter of fact. "It would mean a lot of trouble for me, to say the least, and that would mean a lot of trouble for you. It wouldn't be good if people found out how the guy who was running against you for Governor, who was a big favourite to win, happened to have a heart attack a couple of months before the election."

Hunter could clearly recall his surprise when Blanchard had approached him to ask for his assistance in the race for Governor. When she had explained the nature of her request, he had been even more surprised. She had offered to pay him a lot to off her opponent, but he had turned down her money. Money was not something he needed. What he had valued was the idea of having a friend in a very high place who owed him a significant favour. For that reason, he had helped Blanchard out, earning himself the significant favour that he was now cashing-in.

"A good point well made," the Governor said, her smile indicating that she had been toying with him. "Very well, Hunter, I shall make a call on your behalf. Assistant Director Jarrett is hoping to make Director if I get into the White House. With that in mind, I should be able to get him to sweep this little mess under a rug."

"I'd appreciate it," Hunter said graciously.

Blanchard nodded with equal grace. "Who knows, maybe we'll be able to help each other out in the future?"

Hunter laughed. "If you want a Presidential nominee bumping off, I'll have to pass. That's a big rich for my blood."

"Shame," the Governor said, humour in her smile. "Give me a couple of days, Hunter, and I'll have this problem resolved for you."

"I'll drink to that," Hunter said, raising his glass.

Blanchard raised her glass in acknowledgement, and they drank to mark the agreement they had reached.


	9. Chapter 9

Agent Flair was getting frustrated. After two days, the search for the missing truck and driver had yielded nothing. Officially, the investigation belonged to the local police, but in practice she had pulled rank and brought it under her wider investigation into Helmsley. Unfortunately, without that evidence, and with all three suspects refusing to answer questions, there was currently no hope of charging them with murder. A kidnap charge was possible, but only a phone call and a grainy, computer-enhanced CCTV recording provided evidence of Becky Lynch and Kevin Owens being at the truck stop. It wasn't much to go on in terms of convincing a jury.

"What did they do with that fucking truck?" Flair asked, banging a hand on her desk angrily.

"I wish I knew," Agent Corbin said from behind a desk on the other side of the small desk. "I'd like to think it will turn up, but with someone as well connected as Helmsley, it's possible someone has disposed of it for him."

Agent Flair's phone started to ring. She snatched the device from her desk and answered it without looking at the display. "Flair."

"Agent Flair, this is Assistant Director Jarrett speaking," said a voice she had never heard before. The name was of course familiar to her.

"What can I do for you, sir?" she asked, putting respect in her voice.

"I'm calling with regard to your investigation into the Reigns killings, the Helmsley family, and Zelina Vega."

"Yes, sir," she acknowledged, thinking that was pretty obvious.

"The investigation is being terminated, effective immediately."

Flair was dumbfounded. "Excuse me?"

"I said the investigation is over. Make preparations to leave. You will receive a new assignment shortly."

"Sir, I'm on the point of pinning a murder on three people associated with Helmsley," Flair objected. "Once I have a body, the case will be a slam dunk. One of the suspects I have in custody is virtually a guarantee to flip on Helmsley in order to cut a deal."

"Agent," the Assistant Director tried to cut in.

"The whole web surrounding Helmsley is going to unravel," Flair persisted. "All I need is to find the body of the missing truck driver and I can give you Hunter Helmsley, Stephanie Helmsley, their closest employees, and probably Ronda Helmsley as well. I can put all of them away once I flip this suspect."

The voice on the line grew impatient. "Agent Flair, you have two ears and one mouth. Use them in that ratio. Your investigation is over. Your suspects are to be released, and you are to make preparations to receive your next assignment. Are any of those instructions unclear?"

"Wow," Flair said, her anger at the rug being pulled out from under her close to boiling over. "Helmsley has that much clout, huh?"

"Watch your tone, Flair, or you'll be losing your badge as well as your case," Jarrett threatened.

"Yes, sir," Flair spat contemptuously before hanging up on him. "Fuck!" she screamed, swiping a stack of documents off her desk in a rage.

"What's going on?" Corbin asked, although he knew the basics from her end of the call.

"Helmsley has fucking got to someone. He's got an ally in the FBI or something, I don't know. What matters is that we're being shut down, effective immediately."

"The Governor," Corbin said immediately. Hunter Helmsley had been under surveillance when he had gone to Chef's Table, and had been seen leaving only moments before Governor Tessa Blanchard.

"Yes, you're probably right," Flair said, her face like thunder. As infuriating as the situation was, though, someone of her rank had absolutely no power to disregard an order that came from an Assistant Director. The investigation was over, and the three detained suspects would have to be released. "Corruption, that's what it is, Corbin. As furious as it makes me, there's not much you or I are going to be able to do about it. It's not the first time I've encountered this kind of bullshit; serious crimes being swept under the rug because of behind the scenes connections or politics."

"So, we have to let them go?" Corbin sighed.

"Yes, unfortunately we do."

* * *

Bayley was back living in the Helmsley man mansion for a while. Being at home without Becky around had been unbearable. In a rare display of compassion, Ronda Helmsley had invited her to stay at the mansion, leaving Bayley with the impression that deep down her boss actually did care, at least a little bit.

Even making coffee was something that Bayley was cautious about doing in the mansion's kitchen. The sleek marble surfaces and stylish silver fittings made it look like it had cost more than Bayley and Becky's house. It probably wasn't far from being true, either, she thought, shaking her head slightly.

Outside in the entrance hall, the phone started to ring. Bayley had never been told she had permission to answer it, so she didn't react. In any event, she heard Samoa Joe's voice only moments later. While stirring sugar into her coffee, she listened to his end of the call.

"Helmsley residence."

"Hello, Sheriff, this is Joe."

"Really? That's great news. When can we send someone down?"

"Okay, I'll pass that on to Hunter. Thank you."

It sounded like very good news to Bayley. Forgetting the coffee, she left the kitchen in time to see Joe heading into Hunter's office, where he was working. Stephanie was at work at the food processing plant.

"Boss, that was Sheriff Deville," Joe said. "She says the FBI investigation has been called off, and the charges against our three people have been dropped. They're being processed for release."

"She came through," Hunter said under his breath, smiling. He was referring to Governor Blanchard.

"She sure did," Joe said with a smile. "Deville said we can send someone down to pick up Alexa, Becky and KO from the station."

"I'll go," Bayley said immediately, hovering in the doorway.

"Are you sure?" Hunter asked, playing with her a little.

"Yes! If Becky is being released, I want to be there."

Hunter couldn't hold his smile back any longer. "Take one of the SUVs," he instructed.

"Thank you!" she cried, hurrying from the room.

* * *

Having driven to the police station as quickly as possible without running red lights or picking up a speeding ticket, Bayley walked into the police station a short time later. She walked up to the front desk, which was being manned by a young male officer.

"Help you?" he asked as she approached.

"I'm here to pick up Becky Lynch, Kevin Owens and Alexa Bliss. They're being released."

"Have a seat. They shouldn't be long," the officer told her.

Bayley walked over and sat on one of the cheap plastic chairs. Having to wait was killing her already. All she wanted was to give her girl a great big hug. The awful days and the sleepless nights spent worrying were over, thanks to the strings that Hunter had been able to pull.

The officer's idea of not taking long proved to be somewhat different to Bayley's. Nearly half an hour went by before the door to the main body of the police station opened. Kevin Owens walked out, being escorted with a female officer.

"Hi!" Bayley cried, getting up to go over to him.

"I suppose I've had uglier taxi drivers," he said, as ever finding a wisecrack for every occasion.

Bayley giggled, wrapping her arms around his large frame in a brief hug that he returned with much enthusiasm. He clearly wasn't a hugger. "I'm so glad you're out."

"Me too. But it wasn't as if they had anything on us," he said for the benefit of the officer behind the front desk.

"Where's Becky?"

"She'll be out in a minute. They're just finishing up with her and Alexa."

Typically, Alexa was the next one to come through the door. Bayley barely knew her, so she didn't offer a hug. A smile was enough. "Hi! I'm so glad they're letting you out."

"Me too. I haven't had a decent meal since I set foot in this shit hole," Alexa said. Her sass was coming back quickly.

And then the door opened again. Becky came out, walking with her usual swagger. To Bayley she looked so hot in her leather jacket, hair pulled back in a ponytail. "Hello, lass," Becky said. It was something of a longstanding joke between the couple.

Bayley laughed as they rushed into each other's arms, holding each other like they never wanted to let go. "I missed you so much," Bayley said.

"Not as much as I missed you," Becky replied.

"Well isn't this cute?" a woman's voice said, her tone suggesting that she had the exact opposite opinion.

Becky's expression turned into a scowl as she let go of the hug and turned around to face the taller woman who had walked into the reception area. "Agent Flair. I guess this is the last time we'll see each other," she said smugly, trying to push Flair's buttons, as if she didn't look pissed off enough already.

"If you're lucky, it will be the last time you see me," Flair snarled. "But I'll tell you one thing for a fact: You fucked up once, and I nearly had the three of you put away for life. Helmsley will fuck up again, and when that happens, you won't get off like this again. You're on borrowed time."

"I'm employed as a driver, Agent Flair. Until they make that illegal, you're going to have to go and spend your time harassing actual criminals." With that, Becky turned and marched towards the police station's entrance, leading the group outside.

Bayley went after her girlfriend, feeling full of pride. "That was badass," she said quietly once they were safely outside. "I love the way your attitude has changed since we've worked for Hunter."

Reaching the car, Becky stopped walking and ran an affectionate hand through Bayley's new shorter hair. "I'm not the only one." She leaned in, and they started kissing.

Owens got into the front passenger seat of the SUV without a word. Alexa, however, couldn't help herself. "Can that wait until we get home? I need a meal, a shower, and some proper sleep."

"She's lucky I don't put her to sleep," Becky muttered to Bayley, making her laugh.

* * *

When Bayley and the three newly-released individuals got back to the mansion, the rest of the Helmsley family and crew were waiting for them in the hallway, with the exception of Stephanie, who was still at work.

Joe, Orton and Ronda hung back as Hunter stepped forward, first to greet Owens, one of his closest and longest-serving employees. "Welcome back," he said, offering a handshake.

"Thanks, boss," Owens said, showing rare warmth as they shook hands. "I don't know what strings you pulled, but I'm glad you had them to pull."

"I'm glad too," Hunter said, not elaborating.

Next, Becky stepped forward. She too received a handshake. "Welcome back," Hunter said.

"Thank you for getting us released. I didn't say a word to any of those FBI dopes," she was pleased to announce.

"I'm sure you didn't. You've proven your loyalty before now," Hunter said with some affection. Saving the man's daughter from getting her head blown off was something that wasn't going to be forgotten.

Last to come forward was Alexa. Faced with Hunter, her attitude was being kept in check again. "I kind of screwed up big time, didn't I?" she asked, her gaze dropping to the floor so as not to have to hold eye contact with him.

"Big time," Hunter confirmed. "You and I are going to have a serious chat later today. But for now, we're going to celebrate the three of you being released. We're going to break out some of the best wine in the cellar, and we're going to order a bunch of pizzas in. God knows there's nothing worse than police station food."

"Amen to that," Owens said.

Greetings and congratulatory welcomes started to be exchanged with Orton and Joe, until Ronda's voice cut into the celebrations. So far, she hadn't gotten involved, simply standing there with a characteristic scowl on her face. "There's one thing everyone seems to have forgotten about with all this bullshit going on."

"What's that?" Hunter asked, looking at her.

"Someone's been selling green meth on Vega's turf."

THE END


End file.
